- posted: November 16 @ 6:09pm
Between a rock called heaven and a hard place called home, we wander the shadows so restless and lonesome. For in the fallow field where what's reaped is what's sewn there lies a road to ruin and it's paved with our tombstones. So if you catch my reflection in a sheet of summer rain, pray tell do remain silent for fear you'll awaken them beautiful owners of the wings that we bear for fear they'll reclaim them and send us back there. For we return to Earth on borrowed wings
lifted from the shoulders of sweet dreaming angels. Now the world beyond the world we never will reach, 'cause you can't get to heaven on no... no borrowed wings.